The Salty Sweetness of a Summer's Day
by BecauseHeroesNeverDie
Summary: Requested by Twilight Leopardess. Pence smiled, he could just see Roxas and Hayner's faces when he and Olette pulled out their homemade surprise. Sea-Salt ice cream made from the heart. -oneshot- *PenceXOlette*


Pence's eyes scanned the recipe, taking in all the ingredients and all that was necessary to assemble what the final outcome was intended to be. It didn't look so hard. Olette and himself could totally handle it. Plus, it might even feel rewarding to make their own sweet, salty treat, rather than buy it. All the work they would have to do now would be completely worth it later.

Pence smiled, he could just see Roxas and Hayner's faces when he and Olette pulled out their homemade surprise.

"Wow!" Hayner would exclaim, snatching a popsicle-like object out of his hands. "Bet it won't be too great," he'd tease them, an expression of mock doubt crossing his face. He'd smile widely and take a huge bite, and surprised, he'd find that he thought it was quite good. "Humm, not too bad, you two," he'd nod approvingly and then take another bite.

Roxas would give a small smile and lick at his, giving it a tiny taste. He'd grin faintly, finding it just as good as Hayner had. Then, he would give Pence and Olette the thumbs up.

Olette and himself would grin widely at their best friends and try some of their work for themselves.

Soon, the group would be talking and laughing loudly, enjoying their time together. It would be one of those beautiful summertime memories. They'd be together, and really that was all that mattered.

He pulled his mind back to the present, and he looked over at the table. He scanned the objects on the table, mentally re-checking to see if all the supplies and ingredients were at his disposal. Pence looked over at the front door to his house, just visible through the kitchen door. He wondered when Olette was coming.

He stared unblinkingly at the door, as if by looking at it with such intensity might cause Olette to appear at it. It seemed his effort was rewarded, as a small rhythm played upon his front door. He threw the paper with the recipe on it onto the table and leaped into action.

Dashing to the door, he pulled it open, revealing an auburn-haired girl clad in lively, vibrant shades of orange and yellow.

"Hi Pence!" Her green eyes smiled along with her lips.

"Hey Olette," he shoved his hand through his thick, black hair, which he swore was attempting to one day touch the highest clouds, or at least the lowest ceiling in his house.

"So, where's the 'stuff'?" Olette grinned widely.

"Right this way, miss." He ushered her into the kitchen. The kitchen was fairly sized and furnished with all the usual trappings of the average kitchen.

She picked up the sheet of paper with the recipe on it, and scanned it. He watched her reading it carefully, her intelligent eyes taking in every step. After a few more moments of silent examination of the slip of paper, and turned to him.

"Think we should start it now?" She questioned, eyes flicking back and forth between Pence and the table.

"Guess so," he replied, looking away from her nervous gaze.

"Think we can really do this?" She looked down at the black and white tiled floor. "We might mess it up."

"I think it'll be okay. I mean, if we do mess up, it's just another great memory, then, isn't it? Another thing to look back on when we're older," he reassured her. His speech insisted that it wouldn't be that bad to mess up, though he felt that it would be really irritating if it didn't turn out right.

"'First, separate the eggs into two bowls.'" Olette read aloud from the recipe. "Might as well start now, I guess. No use worrying about anything," she smiled a little.

"Yeah," Pence reassured once more. This had better not be like all the times he had to go shopping with Olette. The worst part was that it always seemed to happen the same way. Olette would really want to buy something (you could tell because she'd keep looking at a certain piece of clothing, or something like that, and would come back to it often), and she could afford to buy it, but she wasn't sure if she should get it. She'd ask him over and over again if she should get it or not. He loved spending time with Olette, but he could never understand why she didn't just get it.

On some of those shopping endeavors, he'd finally ask Olette why she hesitated to buy something she wanted and could, realistically, get. She'd laugh and answer, "I don't know, it's just I'm not sure if I should. We may need the munny someday. I really shouldn't waste it."

She was always saving up over the school year, so the whole group could have fun during the summer. Whenever she spent any munny, she worried that it would ruin a good time they could have had. That and getting their school work done, were just about the only thing Olette was concerned about during the summer. She'd nag them to get started, and though they knew it was in their best interest, they'd ignore her until it was just about time to turn the work in.

Pence decided it was about time those eggs got separated into those bowls. They had a job to do! Time was wasting away!

He handed a bowl and an egg to Olette. He broke his egg, the yolk sliding into a bright green bowl. He reached over and let the egg white slip into Olette's bowl. He watched her carefully knock the egg on the side of her royal blue bowl. He leaned over the table and snatched up a couple of whisks.

"Here," he handed Olette one of the whisks, once she'd finished separating the egg. "'Beat the egg whites until stiff,' you know." She swished the whisk around for awhile, and after a second, Pence followed suit.

Olette finished first and began to read over the next step. "'Mix the egg yolks and sugar until thick.'" She measured out sugar for both of them and handed Pence one of the measuring cups.

The two dumped their sugar-filled measuring cups into the deep blue bowl. They both snatched up spoons and stirred the sugar and egg whites together. Their hands smacked into one another multiple times, but they continued mixing as the job needed to get done. Why one of them didn't just do it to avoid this cumbersome occurrence, they didn't really know. Pence thought it was that they wanted to do it all together. Neither doing more or less work. Sharing the load evenly.

Olette reached across Pence and grabbed the recipe. "Time to slowly boil the milk, whilst stirring occasionally," she announced. The two lumbered over to the pot on the stove, dragging the measuring cup and gallon of milk along for the ride.

After filling the cup with milk, Pence dumped it in the pan. Olette adjusted the heat on the oven surface. Pence refilled the cup, pouring it into the pan, it sizzled softly as it hit the bottom.

"This is gonna be great!" Olette smiled at him.

"Yeah, it is!" Pence returned. Everything was going smoothly. It looked almost impossible to mess up this recipe.

"So, how long do you think it's gonna take to boil?" She questioned, casually leaning against the stove.

They waited awhile, staring into the white mixture.

"I think it's done..." Pence saw a faint bubbling on the surface and the recipe strictly stated that it was not to boil. Olette turned the burner off and Pence grabbed the pan. He poured the white contents of the pan into the bowl with the egg whites. "Wanna mix it?" Pence questioned, turning to her.

"Sure," she snatched up a spoon and whisked it through the substances, blending them together. Her eyes gravitated to the recipe. "Sea salt time," she informed him.

"Alright." Pence picked up the sea salt and dumped it into the mix. He groaned immediately, as he knew that far too much salt had fallen in. Guilt seized his stomach, as he mixed the salt in. He'd ruined the whole thing, he was certain of it. "I'm so sorry, Olette...."

"You didn't do anything." Olette reassured. She carefully took up the bowl and placed it in his refrigerator. "Hey, don't worry about anything." He found her attempts at comforting phrases rather contradictory to her regular nature. He was supposed to be the one that told her she was doing nothing wrong. He was the relaxed, "let it flow" sort of guy.

The pair waited in relative silence, staring at the refrigerator as if it could chill their sea salt syrup, if it only realized the intensity of their gazes upon it. After a long period of indulgence in the aforementioned activity, they deemed it time to crack open the refrigerator and pull out the bowl.

The bowl, having been taken out, promptly had cream and vanilla added to it.

"Better give it some color." He said, looking at the paper in front of him. As he had added the last ingredients, it was Olette's turn. She carefully squeezed from small food coloring bottles twelve drops of blue and three of green. He stirred them in and the two marveled at the perfect blue-green color that had resulted from that action.

The mixture was immediately poured into two pans and put them in the refrigerator.

"What do we do now?" Pence wondered aloud.

"Wait 'till it's done I guess," Olette shrugged.

The pair went to the living room and watched television until it was a reasonable idea that the ice cream was done. They marched back to the kitchen, where they pulled their frozen treat out of the refrigerator. Pence spooned the contents of the pans into a large bowl.

"I think it's done," Olette commented, taking up a spoon. She took a scoop and lifted it tentatively to her lips. "Erghh..." She made a sour face. "Too salty."

"Lemme try." Olette handed Pence the other spoon and he dunked it into the frozen mass. He held it out at arm's length, observing the sea colored dot. Without much further ado, Pence shoved the spoon in his mouth. "Too sweet," he noted.

"I think it's too salty!" Olette proposed a second time.

"No, you're wrong, it's way too sweet!" Pence rebutted simply. The two then burst into giggles.

"We'll have to let the rest of the guys decide!" Olette offered up.

"Indeed we will." Pence smiled. They dashed out the door, Olette bearing the bowl and Pence carrying some spoons.

They quickly found the two, lounging in the Usual Spot.

"What 'cha got there?" Hayner asked, casually lifting an eyelid and giving them a scrutinizing them lazily.

"We brought ice cream!" Pence exclaimed.

"Our very own ice cream!" Olette started, then elaborated, "We made it ourselves!" She took a breath and sighed, "But it isn't too good..."

"I bet it's great," Roxas commented, his hand held out for a spoon. Pence placed it in his hand and he dipped it in the ice cream bowl. Hayner quickly followed suit.

"Too salty." Hayner stuck his tongue out.

"Too sweet...." Roxas mumbled, quietly looking up at the slice of sky peeking from between the rooftops. Pence noted the far-away thoughtfulness emanating from his ocean eyes.

He saw Hayner risk another bite, the same sour expression spread on his face again. Pence then turned his brown gaze to Olette, finding that she was looking back at him. She gave him a huge smile.

"Guess it was too salty and too sweet." She grinned widely. She place her spoon back in and took another bite. Pence did too.

"At least it's ours." Pence noted. The four friends shared the ice cream, dipping their spoons in without a care. There was an unusually rewarding feeling to this. It was theirs and they were sharing it with the most terrific friends that could be had in the world.

He sucked thoughtfully on his spoon. A sweet, salty, and metallic flavor rushing through his taste buds. A calm feeling flooded his limbs. He was surrounded by all of his friends. He was as content as could be. He was almost lulled into the illusion that this could be forever. Pence was a level-headed person, he knew an impossibility when he saw it. The fact that they could live their lives like this forever was the most certain of impossibilities that had faced him. He knew that they were condemned to grow up and take the paths they were destined to walk, but, for now, dreaming felt good.

Dreaming offered liberation from the fear and sadness that was growing up. He wanted to bask in these feelings of companionship and dreamy eternity. They were sure to fade and, surely, letting those wistful thoughts take residence in him would only hurt later, but he wanted to believe. So he did.

**_Hi there! I got the recipe online. There'll be a link to it on my profile. _**


End file.
